


I Promised

by rachel6141997



Category: Bartimaeus - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Post- Potolomy's Gate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-31 12:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachel6141997/pseuds/rachel6141997
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Ross looked down at the boy and thought, Yes, I do know…I had a son once…but not anymore. He and his wife had been younger then , and poor. They couldn’t afford to keep the child, bright as he was, and when the government had offered… Well. He was forty-five, and allowed some regrets in this world, wasn’t he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What if....?

**Author's Note:**

> Te Archive Tag major character death is because it was presumed, and the AU is because it's an intentional misrepresentation of Stroud's Cannon.
> 
> I never did like it when a major character dies.death is just so permanent. Make of this what you will. :)
> 
> The first summary is for the first chapter, not exactly the whole work. Or maybe it's just kind of a teaser...whatev.
> 
> Comments would be appreciated.

 

            Kitty stood on the edge of a field of ashes. _He promised,_ she thought, refusing to let the tears pressing against her eyelids fall. He had promised, but death cared not for promises.  She turned to go.

 

***

 

            Everything was dark, and he couldn’t remember. All he knew was that he was. He felt something wet drip on his face, and knew he had one. He discovered he had eyes as he opened them. Above him was a silver-gray sky, with black snow falling. He lay there staring at the sky for a long time. He was too weak to move. He barely noticed when they came, picking him up and carrying him to a place filled with bright lights and a crisp, sharp smell. _Hospital_ he thought, the word threading its way through his mind before he fell asleep.

 

***

 

            “Another one?”  Dr. Ross asked the nurse.

            “Yes. Too much death, and too many like this one… physically sound, but in shock…lost. This one looks well off though, judging by what remains of his clothing. I heard tell the demons possessed the magicians. Wonder if that’s what happened to this bloke.”

            “Surely, if that were the case, he’d be dead,” Ross replied drily.

            “And just think,” the nurse went on, for she greatly liked to gossip, and if it hadn’t been for all the death and blood and hurt, this whole event would have been quite a treat- “that poor, poor, boy. The magicians were taken from their families when they were quite young you know…all they had was their power, and to dye so young!” She clucked her tongue as she tucked in the latest arrival.

 

            Dr. Ross looked down at the boy and thought, _Yes, I do know…I had a son once…but not anymore._ He and his wife had been younger then , and poor. They couldn’t afford to keep the child, bright as he was, and when the government had offered… Well. He was forty-five, and allowed some regrets in this world, wasn’t he?

            But he knew, that if there were ever a chance to get young Nathaniel back, he and Wendy would take it in a heartbeat. Nate would be about this boy’s age…or the age of young Mandrake, the magician who had, quite uncharacteristically, apparently, sacrificed his life to save the world. Or something like that. He briefly glanced at the boy’s face once more before moving on to the next patient.

 

***

 

            At the sound of a knock on the door, Kitty said, without even glancing up from her hands, “Come in.” She continued to study her hands- they were pitted and worn, but much less so than they had been a week past.

            “You’re wanted at the Council, miss.”

 

             Kitty heaved a great sigh and walked downstairs, into the council room.

             “Ah, Miss Jones, how good of you to join us at last…” the disdainful voice came. Kitty never bothered to look in his direction, saying, “Stuff it, Michael,” deliberately using the magician’s true name, which he had reluctantly revealed after the council’s _nearly_ unanimous first decision to limit magician power.  The young man had insisted on still going by Ebony Saunders. Michael visibly gritted his teeth- Kitty Jones was a hero- in the eyes of magicians and commoners alike- and, while tempting, it would not be a wise career choice to smack her. _Then_ Kitty looked up at him, and deliberately provoking him, smirked.

 

              Water would have burned in the heat of his fury, but Kitty’s smile only widened, before she turned and took her seat as though nothing had happened. She didn’t know why she teased the boy, but some part of her suspected it had something to do with Nathaniel, and how much she had enjoyed humiliating him, reveling in the fact that he was human after all.

 

               She barely listened as the council discussed various issues and viable (and sometimes unviable) solutions. One phrase did catch her attention, though, and she lifted her head, listening more closely. Michael was reporting the status of the clean-up and rescue mission.

               “Bodies are still being found, pulled from the rubble, as well as those injured. Mandrake-Nathaniel” Michael corrected himself, with the barest glance towards Kitty, “has still not been found, but it’s possible his remains, are, as it were, did not remain in existence at all, and were completely incinerated. There are many wounded, and the Mr. Tang has told me the public is greatly demoralized…” Rudolph Tang, a commoner in charge of public information and general happiness level nodded his corrobation.

                “I suggest it might be wise to send someone…important… to the people, maybe visit the hospitals…”

 

                Murmurs went around the room at this, and Kitty sunk back into her chair, letting her smoky-gray bangs (the product of her normal black hair mixing with the white that remained) fall over her eyes. They’d ask her to go, and honestly she couldn’t refuse. She knew, all to well, that her importance stretched far more than hero’s clout- she was probably the only one who could make sure that commoners got their rights without it turning into a bloodbath or slavery for the magicians. She couldn’t afford to waste the power and influence she had because she was miserable.

 

                To do so would be ridiculous, obviously.

 

               But Kitty, noticed, still behind her bangs, no one had mentioned her name. There was an uncomfortable silence, and she peeked out to see them all staring at Michael.

               “You’re suggesting that a commoner go…” Kitty hadn’t expected that. She’d thought that Michael would fight tooth and nail to go himself, or at least have a magician go. He hated the loss of his affluence.

               “Yes. Many of the wounded are commoners, and to send a magician, I think, would be a mistake- especially as it’s now common knowledge that the explosion and the Demon Rebellion was caused by Magicians in the first place.” There were a few nods, and despite herself, Kitty found herself agreeing with him- the first sense she’d ever heard him speak.

 

               “So who do you propose?”

                “Well I should think _that_ choice is obvious,” his voice was sardonic. _Now_ they all looked at Kitty. After a token protest- they could send some other girl and tell them it was Kitty (this was met by snorts of disgust. It really wasn’t an excuse up to her standards- they’d come to expect a lot more from her) then gave in. Besides, a thought, and with it a thin, tenuous thread of hope had wormed its way into her mind and heart.

 

                  _What if Nathaniel…?_


	2. Bartimaeus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet an old friend. A very old friend. Try thousands of years old....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I kind of copied from word, and I'm not quite sure how the foot notes work out, but oh well.  
> I think it will work that footnotes will be placed after every paragraph. :D
> 
> Oh, and chapters will be titled Bartimaeus if it's from his pov, and a regular title if it's not, as the viewpoints switch around during the third-person chapters.

         I was, and I wasn’t. It was an indescribable sense of union, of well-being, of simply being, not individual or defined. I was the Other Place and the Other Place was me. Then I felt it, a sharp tug in my gut[1]. _Damnation,_ I thought[2]. There wasn’t much of a sense of time on the Other Side, but even so, I could tell it had _not_ been a proper amount of time since I had been dismissed. My essence was still ragged from being pulled back after only a brief respite from my years in the magician’s world. I had expected at least a century before being summoned when the kid had dismissed me before blowing himself into smithereens[3]. _Nathaniel_. The thought of my last master washed away the last bit of un-individuality I had left-no other demon would think of a human with affection- and I was swept into the world.

 

* * *

[1] Well, not exactly. You see, being in the Other Place I didn’t exactly have a gut, and it wasn’t exactly a tug, but..well.. You get the idea.

[2] Well, as close to thinking as you can get when _you_ doesn’t really exist, and you’re a mindless blob floating amid a sea of mindless blobiness. That didn’t quite come out the way I wanted it.

[3] Heroically, of course, but still.

_________________________________________

 

I blinked and found myself facing a very familiar face, and all my irritation melted away[1]. Well, most of it.

“Kitty.”

“Bartimaeus. How did you survive?”

“He released me.”

“You lied.”

“I know.”

“Damn him. Damn him. Damn you!”

 

* * *

[1] Okay so _maybe_ I’m getting to be an old softie, but _still_.

________________________________________

 

“Um… Well, if you want me to, I can try…I don’t exactly know how to go about damning myself though, or the dead.”

“What?”

“You told me to damn him. Twice. And to damn myself, too.”

“I hate you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“No…what I want you to do is to find him.” There was an awkward silence, in which I stared at her and somewhere in the back of one of my minds[1] noticed that she didn’t look quite so old, yet seemed faded and tired.

 

* * *

[1] I have several, you know…it’s one of my many abilities and talents.

__________________________________________

 

At last: “Pardon?”

“Find him. If he’s dead, find his body. If it’s been burned, collect as much of the ashes as possible and bring them to me. If he’s alive…”

“He’s not.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Woman, do you seriously think a teenager could survive a blast that destroyed a djin that powerful? Wait-it did destroy him, yes?”

“Of course…but…oh, never mind… Just find him now.”

 

Looks like someone wants to be a slave driver. Oh well…It’s not like I got anything else to do, and besides, once I do this she’ll let me go. Besides, how long can it take to find the ashes of one wizard when they’ve been mixed with those of a thousand others and scattered across London?[1]

 

 

I sighed, and vanished.

* * *

[1] Yes that was sarcasm. Really, you humans are _so_ into stating the obvious.

 


End file.
